Under The Weeping Willow

By Madeleine Pizzuti

When the small, picturesque English village of Toveringham is suddenly struck down with food poisoning, the village community decide to take matters into their own hands.

The local Publican holds a secret of which no-one would have expected, least of all his partner, and a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Madeleine Pizzuti
• Release date: Mar 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9780648912637

Madeleine Pizzuti

Madeleine Pizzuti was born in Cambridgeshire, England and enjoyed an adventurous childhood. At the age of 18, she emigrated to Sydney, Australia, got married and successfully raised three sons.After having children, she transitioned back into the workforce as a Teacher's Aide (special needs) in the Catholic School System, later becoming a Pastoral Associate in the Catholic Church. She's always enjoyed reading and writing and Under The Weeping Willow is her third published novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Mr McGregor bent down slowly to retrieve the battered and rusty rubbish bin lid from the gutter.

Ooohhh, me back! he moaned, straightening himself up. Those lazy council workers haven’t got an ounce of common sense. It doesn’t take much effort to put the bloody lid back on the bin, does it! he muttered to himself as he slammed the lid back on his rubbish bin sending a loud, reverberating bang through the early morning peace and quiet of the village.

Where on earth is everyone, he thought. It’s Saturday morning for heaven’s sake. Don’t tell me they’ve all slept in after that dinner dance.

The Lincolnshire village of Toveringham did seem to be unusually quiet for a Saturday morning, especially since it was also market day.

Mr McGregor scanned the street with his squinting eyes for any sign of life before he turned around to carry the bin into his back garden.

Oh, hello, at least someone’s up and about he spied Pamela, the local librarian, from next door, making her way rather hurriedly to her mini minor parked in her gravelled driveway.

I can’t talk James she said, stumbling around to the driver’s door. I’m sick … gotta go to the hospital. Just as she said that she doubled over and vomited all over James McGregor’s prized petunias!

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At the other end of the village, the doctor’s surgery was unusually busy for a Saturday morning. The waiting room was full to the brim with some villagers sitting on the garden seat just outside the front. James Blundle, the butcher’s lad, was bent right over with his head between his knees. Almost everyone seemed to have the same symptoms – light-headed feeling with nausea and vomiting.

You okay son? enquired Dutch-born Hans bending over to see James’ face.

Nooo … not really.

Mmmm, replied Hans, who did not know what to say to the poor lad, as he brushed past the barrage of patients towards the door of the surgery.

My word, you sure are pretty busy this morning, lass. Hans commented to the receptionist.

Good morning, Mr Hoffner. Yes, it is rather. Are you here to pick up your daughter’s prescription?

Yes, that’s right! My wife forgot to collect it when she was here yesterday.

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Four doors down at the Shepherd’s Arms, Michael and Karl were having a late breakfast. Michael lifted his head from the copy of the Daily Mail that he was reading and stared at his partner of twelve years.

What’s wrong with you this morning? You’ve spent ages pushing that egg and bacon around on your plate. Come on, out with it.

I’m fine, Karl responded.

Oh no you’re not. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes matey. What’s wrong?

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s a virus or something … I just don’t feel a hundred percent.

Are you sick or something? What symptoms have you got?

Nothing, just a bit flat, I suppose.

I know what it is. You’re probably in need of a good holiday, we both are. Hey! Let’s go up to Mablethorpe for a week. I can get Sally and James to look after the pub, they’ve done it before … remember?

Sally and James Birchwell were like mentors to the lads, having kept a public house themselves for fifteen years. They were retired now and would often go travelling, all around the country.

Oh, don’t go bothering them, they’re always busy and besides they’re probably going away themselves.

For heaven’s sake, they don’t go away 24/7, month after month. Surely to goodness we can find a week somewhere where they’re free.

Michael stared at his partner waiting expectantly for a reply.

Well, alright … ask them. But don’t tell them anything about how I feel … okay?

The sea air will do us both good, said Michael, reaching across the table to squeeze his partner’s hand.

CHAPTER 2

As the morning wore on and villagers began to wake up, albeit to moans and groans of upset stomachs, it became evident that the activities of the previous evening had led to an epidemic of food poisoning throughout the village.

Word spread near and far, as quickly as a grass fire; via text messages, phone calls and general gossip.

Lorraine Thompson’s phone rang that morning just as she was making her bed.

She dropped the pillow she was plumping up and moved hastily to the phone in her hallway.

Hello, Lorraine speaking.

Lorraine, it’s Marge. Have you heard what’s happened?

What … what do you mean … what’s happened?

You’ll never believe it … there’s food poisoning right throughout the village.

Food poisoning! You’re kidding!

No, I’m not kidding. I’ve just seen it with my own eyes. I was walking down to Elam’s to get the Saturday paper; you know how I always buy it on a Saturday for the crosswords. I think I’ve told you they have a full page of all sorts of ‘em, from real easy to the cryptic ones. Of course, I don’t do the real hard ones, but I do have a go at ‘em from time to time. Well … (Marge paused for a moment to regain her train of thought) outside the doc’s, there they were, practically the whole village queued up to see the doc. I’ve never seen so many people all looking terribly sick.

How do you know it’s food poisoning?

Well, Jenny Elam told me, didn’t she? You know how she gets to know everything firsthand, being a shopkeeper and all. It was from that dinner dance they had in the parish hall last night. My word Lorraine, it’s lucky we didn’t go, you and me, otherwise we’d be sitting right now with the rest of ‘em outside the doc’s.

Hmmm, Lorraine wasn’t convinced of the accuracy of Marge’s news. After all her friend did tend to exaggerate just a little, well actually a lot, if she was truthful.

Well, that’s no good Marge. Let’s hope they all get better soon.

Lorraine was happy to end the conversation at that point, but Marge rambled on about the fact that it most definitely must have been the food from the dinner dance. Lorraine held the receiver from her ear, not needing to hear all the details. After about three minutes (which did seem like a lot longer), she decided that she’d heard quite enough gossip for one day, and bringing the receiver back to her ear, announced,

Well Marge, I’d better go. I’ve just heard my mobile go off; I’m waiting on a text message from my daughter.

Oh, that’s right! She’s coming to visit, isn’t she?

Yes, see you later Marge!

And with that Lorraine promptly placed the receiver back into its cradle with a bang.

Phew! she breathed a sigh of relief. That woman can talk. She never lets up.

Lorraine made her way back to the bedroom to finish making her bed, pleased at the fact that she’d been brave enough to cut Marge off before she rambled on too much more.

Smoothing over her duvet, she then turned to kiss the photo of her family that had its permanent place on her bedside locker. She loved them all dearly. After John died, all the family she had left was her only daughter, Suzanne, and her son-in-law, Sam. So, when her twin grandsons arrived it was like a gift from heaven!

Sam was offered a job opportunity in Perth, one which he could not refuse. So, Sam, Suzanne and the twins emigrated to Australia. Lorraine had no other choice than to support them in their decision, after all she wanted them to be happy, and happy they were. The blessing was that at least they could afford to travel back and forth to the United Kingdom every so often due to Sam’s highly paid position.

Lorraine hadn’t told a white lie to Marge when she said she was waiting on a text message from her daughter, she really was. Suzanne had promised to text her mum when they were about to board the plane at Dubai before the final leg of their journey. Lorraine was so anxious for them, yet at the same time so excited that they were coming home again.

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By nine o’clock, market stalls with their brightly coloured striped awnings began to fill the northern end of the village green. There seemed to be fewer stalls than usual, probably due to some stallholders being sick. James Birchwell slammed shut the boot of his station wagon after unloading the last of his home-grown cauliflowers.

By gum, Jim, they look like good caulies! remarked Steven Cosgrove, peering over the top of a pile of wooden crates.

Oh, hello Steve … whatcha up to?

Oh, I thought I’d come by early to check out the produce. Here on your own are ya?

Yeah, I let the missus sleep in this mornin’ after last night’s dinner dance. She’ll be up later with a flask o’ tea and a sandwich.

Hey Jim, I hear a lot of ‘em that went last night are right sick this morning. You should see the line up at the doc’s.

I was wondering why there’s so few stalls. Normally by now the green is practically full.

Well, that’d be why Jim, everyone’s sick. By the way, can you put one of those caulies aside for me? I’ll pick it up before I go home.

Sure Steve. See ya later then.

Steve raised his arm to bid farewell whilst Jim stared momentarily at his cauliflowers … wondering whether his wife was okay at home in bed. After all she had gone to the dinner dance on her own last night, leaving Jim to have an early night, seeing as he would have to be up at the ‘crack of dawn’ this morning.

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Dr Brendan Jones had run overtime that morning with his surgery. The majority of cases were in fact food poisoning, some more severe than others.

In all the years I’ve been practising here, I’ve never seen anything like it! he announced to his receptionist, Mandy. I’m sure Paul’s doing a roaring trade this morning.

Paul Bloomfield was the local pharmacist. He and Brendan had been good mates for many years, arriving at the village almost at the same time, twenty-five years ago.

Mandy, see that you finish up here soon. You’ve worked hard this morning.

Yes, it’s been rather hectic, hasn’t it? Enjoy the rest of the day Brendan.

Thanks Mandy, you too.

At that he shut the door of his office and headed out, turning the surgery sign to CLOSED as he left.

CHAPTER 3

By lunchtime, Pamela, the librarian, had arrived home from the hospital.

Do you feel any better, lass? shouted James as she stepped out of her car. Pamela couldn’t believe it, the old ‘so and so’ did seem quite concerned for a change.

Feeling the need to be nice back to him, she cried out, Sorry about the petunias, James. I’ll buy you some fresh ones.

Oh no need for that, they’ll come good, don’t worry, he replied.

Pamela raised her hand in acknowledgement and then disappeared through her front door, leaving James standing amongst his garden beds, wondering.

Just then young Adrian Cosgrove rode by on his bicycle.

Mornin’ Mr McGregor, hailed Adrian, have you heard the news?

What news, laddie?

Adrian squeezed his brake handles and abruptly ground to a halt.

Food poisoning right throughout the village.

So, I was right, James murmured to himself.

You should have seen the queue outside Doc Brendan’s surgery, there must have been at least twenty people waiting to see the doc.

James smiled at Adrian and then changed the subject.

Lord above! That’s a mighty fine cauliflower you’ve got there, nodding at the large item of produce Adrian had in his bicycle basket.

Yeah, Mr Birchwell put it aside for Dad.

That’ll make a good cauliflower cheese. It’ll keep your mum busy this morning, eh lad?

They both chuckled as James waved young Adrian off home.

A lovely lad, he thought to himself. Pity there’s not more like him.

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By four o’clock most of the stall holders on the village green were packing up to go home. It had been a long day with fewer than usual villagers out shopping. Most of the customers that day had come from nearby villages. Some of the resident youngsters were now collecting rubbish and doing a general tidy up of The Green. It had been a long-standing tradition for many years to keep the young folk involved in village life. And it seemed to work.